


Just a Hobby

by Kijang



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Burns, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Gore, M/M, Prostitution, Serious Injuries, Sexual Violence, Stabbing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 11:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kijang/pseuds/Kijang
Summary: It’s a hobby.Nothing more than just that.That’s what Kim Joonmyun tell himself whenever he finds himself driving past the rent boys in the red-light district in his Hyundai Santa Fe, which earns him interested glances from the many young men lurking about the streets.





	Just a Hobby

> **"There is no happiness without tears, no life without death. Beware! I am going to make you cry."**

LUCIAN STANIAK

 

It’s a hobby.

Nothing more than just that.

That’s what Kim Joonmyun tell himself whenever he finds himself driving past the rent boys in the red-light district in his Hyundai Santa Fe, which earns him interested glances from the many young men lurking about the streets.

He swallows the lump in his throat when he pulls up beside a young man, dressed in torn skinny jeans and a ragged coat, his icy breath visible under the yellow streetlight. His dark hair is in dire need of trimming as he flicks his head every so often. His skin is appears to be a milky white, but not the ghostly pale of Joonmyun’s. His nose is straight and his eyes are wide.

As if cued, the young man leans to the passenger side window, tapping with a small sweet smile. A dimple appears on his  right cheek and Joonmyun smiles back as he presses a button to roll the window down.

“You looking for a good time?” asks the stranger, pink tongue running over chapped lips.

“Yes… yes, I am,” answers Joonmyun.

He doesn’t stutter, he’s too practiced to do so anyway. He’s done this too many times before.

“Blowjobs are eighty thousand won, handjobs are twenty thousand and just fucking is fifty thousand,” lists the young man, face serious.

“Hop in then…?”

“Lay. Call me Lay.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun drives them to a deserted warehouse, where he steps out of the car and motions for Lay to follow him. He opens the back of his car and lays his coat out in his trunk, smiling gently.

“I figured that it would be uncomfortable – doing it in the front I mean.”

Lay looks at him with a slightly opened mouth and wide eyes. Joonmyun notes his surprised expression when he spots the label on the coat, _Dior_. He thanks Joonmyun quickly before lying down on his coat, sliding his own jacket off his shoulders and resting on his elbows. Joonmyun is quick to follow, fumbling lube and condoms from his jacket pockets and putting them aside. Lay bites his lip and shifts uncomfortably, like he’s not used to this kind of treatment.

When Joonmyun leans over Lay to kiss him, Lay cries out:

“Wait!”

Joonmyun pauses, faces inches from Lay’s.

“I don’t do kissing,” he continues softly, eyes earnest.

“Can I kiss you elsewhere, not on your lips?”

He sees Lay pondering for a moment before he nods, ever so slightly. Joonmyun mouths _okay_ and proceeds to pepper kisses along Lay’s jaw line, his skin cold and almost papery to Joonmyun’s lips. He runs his hands down Lay’s sides over the worn cotton of his shirt and dips his fingers underneath, cradling his hips.

“Wha-what should I call you?” asks Lay, hands on Joonmyun’s shoulders.

“Please call me Suho,” is the answer in a hot whisper to the shell of his ear.

His breath hitches in his throat and he lets the name roll off his tongue as he pushes his pants down. The lining of Joonmyun’s jacket is soft and Joonmyun knows that it feels better than any dirty sheets Lay has ever laid down on.

Joonmyun learns that Lay is very vocal but doesn’t like responding physically, unless prompted to. He has Lay suck him off, slowly. Hands run through too-long dark hair and grip loosely. He curses when Lay takes him completely into his mouth, fisting his free hand in the rough denim of his jeans. He ends up cumming on Lay’s face, which Lay obviously finds really repulsive.

When Joonmyun frantically apologizes and wipes the semen off Lay’s face with a tissue, Lay’s expression softens and he asks Joonmyun to sit back and touch himself. He holds Lay’s face for a second longer in his cupped hands, gazing into his eyes before letting his own trace Lay’s skinny body. He moves back anyway and rubs his cock as he watches Lay with hooded eyes.

Lay strips himself for Joonmyun. Worn jeans are completely pushed down to reveal skinny milky legs. He leaves his shirt on, but still tugs it up teasingly to show off his flat stomach and his angular torso. He palms his own cock and licks his lips.

“Suho,” he moans and beckons Joonmyun over.

“Come on, you want me, right?” he whispers, tearing a condom package open.

He rolls the latex over Joonmyun’s cock with ease and quickly dribbles some lube over it. He makes a show of spreading the slippery substance and moans, voice thick and wanton, when Joonmyun slowly and gently pushes himself inside. He locks his arms around Joonmyun’s neck and rocks his hips back.

“ _Suho…_ ”

Joonmyun is gentle.

Measured.

Paced.

Everything Lay’s usual clients aren’t, Joonmyun figures. He knows it breaks Lay’s heart to think that he won’t see him again after this gentle treatment.

He can tell that Lay tries his best to prolong his orgasm and stay with him a little longer. He cries _Suho_ over and over and Joonmyun has a tired smile on his face. He murmurs how he likes the way Lay looks beneath him with his mouth half-open and his eyes falling shut. He sees Lay turn his head and force his eyes shut tightly. Lay bites his lip and pushes back with just a bit more vigor –

And then it’s over.

A dark bruise on Lay’s neck remains. Joonmyun is a hundred and thirty thousand won and a box of cigarettes (a parting gift for the good fuck) poorer, but Lay is one fleeting love richer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun returns the week after, contrary to what Lay believes. Lay has a much more demure smile on his face, Joonmyun notes as he invites him into his car.

They head off to a secluded alleyway and end up sitting together in the driver’s seat after a quick blow job and fuck, with Lay bouncing in Joonmyun’s lap and calling for _Suho_ helplessly. He even let Joonmyun kiss him on the lips for a brief minute in exchange for a brief reach-around.

Lay ends up talking to Joonmyun about his past as he sucks in the smoke from a shared post-coital cigarette, coughing and hacking into his hand.

He tells Joonmyun about the shoelaces and needles. The incredible highs from a needle in his arm and the lows that happen eight hours later with him lying under a bridge wondering why it’s so goddamned cold and hot at the same time. How he got stuck being a rent boy in the first place. He tells him how his best friend’s corpse was found in a small mountainside river and that he was terrified the same would happen to him because _why would the police give a shit about some wayward Chinese whores._ When he begins to cry, Joonmyun wraps an arm around his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, “I’m here for you.”

He kisses his forehead and hugs him tighter as Lay sobs harder and buries his face in Joonmyun’s chest. The tears stain his Armani shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He runs his hand through Lay’s hair and kisses his temple.

“Even if it’s for a short while, I’ll be here for you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The week after, Joonmyun returns, spotting Lay. Lay smiles and taps his window, Joonmyun nods and he steps in on the passenger side. His hand slides over to Joonmyun’s thigh and he glances over at him.

“Same as last time?”

“Not exactly.”

This time, Lay is taken to a motel of all things and despite the dingy room and gross carpet, he still finds himself touched. Though he does know that Joonmyun can do far better. He smiles when Joonmyun has to stand on tiptoes to kiss his sensitive neck and runs his hands over his flat stomach.

Joonmyun tugs him slowly to the bed and fucks him open nice and slow with a lot of lube and nuzzles Lay’s neck whispering that he’s so beautiful and he feels so good on his cock.

Lay can only curl around a pillow, rutting against it desperately as Joonmyun takes him. His hand, shaking, holds Joonmyun’s hip as he asks him to stop for a moment.

“I want to see your face,” he says, slightly muffled.

Joonmyun smiles and pulls out, laying back down on the bed. Lay sits up, and rearranges himself to sit astride Joonmyun’s hips. He cants his hips forward as he slides Joonmyun’s cock inside.

“Suho,” he gasps.

Joonmyun’s hands rest on Lay’s hipbones as he works himself up and down on Joonmyun, panting all the while.

Lay can’t help but smile as Joonmyun holds his hand as he rides him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun smiles, when Lay says he doesn’t want to be paid anymore.

“Why?” he asks.

“I don’t want to accept money from someone I no longer consider a client.”

They’re in Joonmyun’s car. Lay’s stretched out on the backseat with his shirt pushed up past his nipples and Joonmyun sitting between his legs. Lay looks totally debauched and Joonmyun loves it, loves it, _loves it_.

“It’s the only way I can help you,” he answers, letting his hands ghost over the rope around Lay’s wrists.

Lay looks away, but forces himself to sit up, struggling himself upright.

“Knowing someone gives a shit is more than enough. There are lots of whores like me running around, but you usually come to me, and that’s nice. In a weird way.”

Joonmyun quirks an eyebrow, then smiles as he leans into Lay. He kisses so very sweetly, tongue dipping and lapping. Lay keens, but pushes him off gently.

“My name… It’s Zhang Yixing. Please call me Yixing.”

He lets his eyes fall shut and he turns his head, his cheeks are burning and he’s so terrified Joonmyun will _laugh._

“Yixing…” he hears before Joonmyun turns his head and pushes his lips to his.

“ _My Yixing_ ” Joonmyun breathes again, cupping his face and brushing the too-long hair out of Lay’s – no, Yixing’s eyes.

Yixing rests his head on Joonmyun’s shoulder and struggles into his lap.

“Let me pretend that you’re not a client, just this once, _please_ , I’ll do anything,” he says, putting his arms around Joonmyun’s neck and rocking his hips.

With a few laps against his neck, Joonmyun agrees and slips another condom on, easily fucking into Yixing and forcing his own hips up and Yixing’s down onto his cock. He takes his time and is sure to look into Yixing’s eyes, say his name and rest his forehead against Yixing’s.

He runs his hands along the ridges of Yixing’s hips and ribcage, emaciated and fragile but helplessly beautiful.

“ _Suho_ ,” he hears in dulcet gasps and moans and he’s so hard he can only grip Yixing’s waist and want, want, _want_.

Yixing goes limp in his arms after he comes, hot and sticky on Joonmyun’s defined stomach. He looks at Joonmyun with half-lidded eyes.

And he wants, wants, _wants_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The week after Joonmyun is certain Yixing is in love with him, he takes him to a nice hotel. The sheets are crisp and clean and Yixing feels out of place. He gazes around the room in wonder, as if he can’t believe that it’s real.

“Are you alright?” asks Joonmyun, sitting beside Yixing on the king size bed.

“’M fine,” he says softly.

“You can take a shower first, if you like,” he says, placing a gentle hand on Yixing’s.

Yixing’s eyes widen a bit and he smiles.

“Shower with me?” Yixing gets up and saunters to the bathroom, he leans against the doorframe, glancing over his shoulder.

He strips down as Joonmyun follows him. Joonmyun catches him looking at himself in the mirror, like he hasn’t done so in years. It’s probably not far from the truth. His body looks almost like a baby bird’s. Sinewy, pale and bony.

His ribs stick out and his knees are knobby, the skin pulled over his thin frame is more like paper than anything. He’s a canvas.

It’s so different to Joonmyun, who can eat on a regular basis, who can swim and work out when he pleases. He spots Yixing biting his lip and staring at the floor as he steps under the stream of hot water.

He follows quickly, wrapping his arms around Yixing’s waist.

“You needn’t be self-conscious,” he whispers in Yixing’s ear.

“You’re beautiful.”

Yixing buries his face in Joonmyun’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his neck.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs.

“Don’t what?”

“Lie to me,” he croaks.

“I’m not lying,” says Joonmyun in earnest, holding his hand.

“… You’re the only client I take, nowadays,” he confesses.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like shit, I don’t understand.”

Joonmyun presses his lips to Yixing’s, running a hand through his hair. He fits his hand on Yixing’s waist and pulls him close.

“You deserve better.”

With that, Yixing breaks apart under the hot water and Joonmyun’s words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later, after Joonmyun has cleaned Yixing up, scrubbing his skin and soaping his hair, Joonmyun pulls out a piece of rope from a bag with a sheepish smile, Yixing doesn’t care.

He readily lets Joonmyun tie him up, it’s not like he can steal anything from a whore with no money.

As Joonmyun fucks him, he calls out for him, loudly. A chant of _Suho_ and pants mixed with moans and whimpers.

He lets Joonmyun flip him on his stomach and slide back in, hot and slick inside of him. He’s sure to let out wanton noises and thrust back as best he can. He looks over his shoulder back at Joonmyun as best he can, his eyes glassy and mouth hanging open.

Joonmyun kisses the spot between his shoulder blades, hands roaming over Yixing’s chest.

“Suho-” he cries out as he cums.

When it’s over, Yixing kisses Joonmyun as he lays beside him, and Joonmyun knows.

He simply knows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s like the first night, in a way, if it had taken place at Joonmyun’s house. Lay had been surprised by the luxurious house and only then wondered why Joonmyun wanted _him_ of all people. A whore with nothing more than the clothes on his back and a regular spot under a bridge in a terrible neighborhood.

He wasn’t even exceptionally pretty, unlike Lu Han. But still Joonmyun chose him.

He breathes through his nose and lets Joonmyun take his sweet time, hands running over shivering skin and quivering muscle. Joonmyun brings a hand up to briefly remove the cigarette from his lips, he smiles down at Yixing before puffing small rings of smoke out

He’s splayed out and open for Joonmyun. He’s silenced by a gag around his mouth, his wrists are bound and his legs are being kept apart by a separator bar, though he instinctively tries to close his legs. He moans into the piece of fabric around his mouth and struggles against his bound hands over his head. The scent of sex and smoke is heavy in the air and Joonmyun’s heart is pounding harder than ever before.

Yixing’s muffled cries of _Suho! Suho!_ make Joonmyun harder still and the adrenaline rush in his veins becomes _that_ much headier. He tongues Yixing’s sensitive patch near the junction of his neck and shoulder. Yixing arches up into Joonmyun and shudders when a cold hand is placed on the small of his back. He pushes his hips back for _more and more._

Just as he’s about to cry out his climax, Joonmyun covers his face with a cloth and the smell of chloroform overwhelms his senses.

He gasps.

Before the world goes black he briefly wonders.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he comes to, Yixing is still bound and gagged. He’s lying on a mattress covered only by a sheet. The ceiling above him is different to Suho’s bedroom and the air smells stale.

Joonmyun is sitting beside him with his normal sweet smile on his face. His pale hands trace the contours of Yixing’s face. His fingers rest under Yixing’s chin and he gently tilts Yixing’s face up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Good morning, Yixing.”

Yixing’s breathing heavily and his chest rises and falls rapidly. He struggles against his bindings, thrashing about wildly. He doesn’t scream but his eyes are wide and flickering.

When his gaze falls on the scalpel and kitchen knife lying on a metal tray beside him, he _screams._ His shrieks make his voice crack until he coughs horribly into the gag.

Joonmyun frowns and picks up a box of cigarettes. He lights one up and inhales deeply, his eyes follow the curling smoke in the dim light of the room.

“Don’t do that, Yixing,” he says.

“It’s useless.”

Joonmyun picks up the scalpel and flicks it open, licking his lips. He holds the blade to Yixing neck and sighs.

"If you fight me too much, I'll have to put you to sleep, but that’s no fun, isn’t it?"

He lightly traces Yixing's collarbones with the tip of the knife, slicing the skin and splitting it over the bones that jut out. Yixing screams out into the muffling gag.

“I prefer you awake, after all.”

Joonmyun smiles as he watches Yixing writhe breathing heavily through his nose and tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He leans down and kisses the edges of the slits, where the blood gathers before dripping down Yixing's shoulders and staining the material of the sheet below. He dabs the blood away with alcohol, revealing dull pink, the shade Joonmyun prefers. The sting of the alcohol makes Yixing groan in pain and he begs through the gag:

" _Suho! Suho!_ "

It's almost cute. Actually. It _is_ cute. And Joonmyun just loves it. He's loving the way the tears spill from Yixing's eyes, those eyes that just look at him with fear and adrenaline and Joonmyun is so on edge.

Precious darling.

"That's not all, Yixing," he says, sugary sweet and absolutely vile to Yixing's ears.

Joonmyun moves to sit astride his torso, leaning down he kisses Yixing's forehead. He begins to drag the scalpel along Yixing's ribs, just under the bone.

“You know, you can call me Joonmyun now. I think we’re intimate enough for that,” remarks Joonmyun casually.

The blood seeps out in patterns. The blood rolls in rivulets along the grooves, red stark against the ivory. Joonmyun licks his lips, which curl into a smirk. He runs his free hand along the side of Yixing’s ribcage, dragging his fingers through the red. He sighs like he can finally relax at the wet warmth.

He drops the scalpel in to the tray and pauses for a moment to breathe in the smoke.  Holding the cigarette between his index finger and thumb, he forces his free fingers into Yixing’s mouth and pulls the spit-soaked gag out. He holds his breath and presses his lips firmly against Yixing’s. Joonmyun grips Yixing’s jaw with his blood-slicked fingers, forcing his mouth open. Ignoring Yixing’s protests, he exhales.

And Yixing chokes.

He sputters and hacks, eyes blown wide and staring up at Joonmyun, who simply stares back with a lazy, sultry smile. He pulls back with a grin.

“I thought you smoked?”

The glare Yixing sends him doesn’t make him flinch, instead he rubs a line of red across Yixing’s tear-stained cheek. Joonmyun takes the cigarette between his fingers and holds it just above Yixing’s right nipple.

Joonmyun smirks before pressing down. The scent of burnt flesh fills the room.

Yixing’s scream echoes off the walls, the sound bouncing and reverberating as he struggles against his bound wrists. He pants desperately and cries harder, begging for _Joonmyun to fucking stop._

“Bite my tongue and you’ll lose a whole lot more than your life,” warns Joonmyun.

He kisses Yixing as he burns the other nipple, swallowing Yixing’s scream whole and nails dragging along the ragged skin of his shredded chest. Yixing’s voice cracks again and he just opts for sobbing into Joonmyun’s mouth.

“Joonmyun, Suho, _please_ ,” he begs, still struggling as Joonmyun tongues his neck.

“But we’re having so much fun, Yixing. I thought you wanted to make me happy and, _ah_ , do anything for me.”

Yixing closes his eyes trying to block out Joonmyun’s taunting. He had been such a fool, he realizes. He let himself be fooled by the promise of a better life.

Joonmyun runs a finger along the thin white strips of skin along Yixing’s ribcage.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he comments, kissing Yixing’s forehead and admiring how the blood wells up between the gaps.

He gets off Yixing and rolls him onto his stomach. Though the sheets are soft and silky, it feels like sandpaper to his ribs and he tries to push himself up on all fours. Chuckling, Joonmyun pushes him back down, holding him in place with his forearm. He grabs a bottle of lubricant off the tray, slicking his fingers and pushing them inside roughly as Yixing is still slightly stretched from their romp earlier.

Yixing clenches around his fingers as he adds more digits, scrabbling to get away from Joonmyun. He decides to forgo the condom and dribbles a small amount of oil on his cock.

He slides in, groaning at the little resistance from Yixing’s body and the resistance from Yixing himself. He snaps his hips quickly, rocking with brutal force and being louder than he ever has before.

No one had ever felt _this_ good on his cock.

Yixing cries and hopes that if he lays still that it’ll be over soon. But when he spots Joonmyun reaching for the scalpel out of the corner of his peripheral vision, he whimpers and squirms to _get away._

But Joonmyun’s grip on his shoulder that digs into the stinging wounds on his collarbones holds him in place.

The first cut Joonmyun makes is at the top of his back, just above the vertebra that juts out the most. Only just deep enough to make him bleed. Yixing grits his teeth and his fists are clenched so hard his own nails are cutting into his skin. His fists fill with blood and stain his reddened palms even more.

The cuts that follow along his back are all carefully sliced along his spine, just deep enough to bleed but nowhere near deep enough to damage his spinal cord. Joonmyun is still thrusting all the while into Yixing’s squirming body, gasping loudly over the scent of blood and the feel of Yixing around him. His face is the epitome of bliss and he runs his fingers over Yixing’s chest, feeling the ridges of his artwork. Yixing is so beautiful, Joonmyun thinks. He's better than any of the paintings hanging in his house, just because he is Yixing.

And he belongs to Joonmyun.

Yixing has started screaming again, though his throat is sore and he just wishes everything will end, because _Joonmyun’s fucking hurting him so much._

Joonmyun once again drops the knife into the tray and admires the way the blood runs down Yixing’s back. The droplets fall faster with each snap of his hips. He leans down and tongues the crook of Yixing’s neck, breath heavy and hoarse.

“ _My_ Yixing.”

It’s so vile.

He pulls the gag out of Yixing’s mouth again and forces his mouth back to his own, fist pulling his hair tight as he continues to pump his hips forward. Joonmyun kisses harshly and the tears are still streaming down Yixing’s face.

The warmth of Yixing’s lips combined with the heat around his cock make Joonmyun slow his hips for a moment. He sits up and caresses Yixing’s shoulder blades.

“You’re not an angel,” he says, running a finger along the protruding bones.

“You’re so much more than that. You’re mine.”

He takes the scalpel again and hovers with it over Yixing’s lower back.

“I even learned Chinese for you,” he grins and drags the blade over Yixing’s skin, splitting it and letting blood well up in thick drops.

All the while, Yixing lets out earsplitting screams and cries harder. Joonmyun slowly rocks his hips as he carves the characters for Shǒuhù into him. He’s so fucking hard and his hand shakes slightly, though it doesn’t matter because Yixing’s back is such a mess already and the characters would have been illegible anyway. Half way through the writing, Yixing’s arms give out and he stops screaming. He’s not dead – Joonmyun makes sure of that, but he’s too tired to fight or scream. Instead he sobs into the blood-stained sheets.

With the last stroke of his knife – no, brush, Joonmyun drops it into the tray and curls around Yixing’s quivering mess of a body.

A beautiful mess of a body.

But it’s not enough for Joonmyun, he pulls out and rolls Yixing onto his side.

“You’re just so beautiful like this…”

He rubs his cock over Yixing’s torn chest, moaning loudly and caressing Yixing’s face. Yixing tries to jerk his head away from his touch, but merely pulls the slits on his collarbones wider. He whimpers and holds still as Joonmyun kisses his forehead.

“So goddamned beautiful.”

He cracks an eye open to glance at Joonmyun, who’s dabbing the cuts on his chest with a cotton swab. Joonmyun has a content smile on his face. His eyes are darker with his dilated pupils and Yixing is so terrified. Where was the man he had fallen for?

Joonmyun shoves Yixing onto his back again and straddles his chest. He picks up the scalpel again and holds Yixing’s jaw firmly.

“Yixing, smile for me?” he asks with a voice that makes Yixing want to vomit.

He tightens his grip when Yixing squeezes his eyes shut and wishes Joonmyun would get it over with. Yixing, with quivering lips, forces his mouth into a half-smile. The dimple in his cheek only barely show and tears are spilling from the corners of his eyes again.

“That’s a good boy.”

Joonmyun jabs the scalpel into Yixing’s dimple, cutting cleanly through his skin and drags the blade inward, towards Yixing’s mouth and effectively splitting his face into a half-grin. Yixing gasps and screams again as blood pours from his mutilated face. His salty tears sting the cut even more and he struggles again.

“We’re not done yet, Yixing. You’re not smiling yet.”

The second stab in his right cheek cuts through with a bit more difficulty and Joonmyun nicks his gums as well. By now, Yixing this thrashing wildly and the bleeding won’t stop. Joonmyun forces the gag back into his mouth which he gratefully bites down on, in a rather futile attempt to distract himself from the pain.

It’s excruciating.

His body feels like it’s alight. Pain coursing through his whole being. The cuts in his back, ribs, collarbones and now his face are screaming at him. The singed skin of his nipples and hips make him wish his body would give out and he’d just die.

Once the bleeding has stopped somewhat with the saliva that runs freely from his mouth out onto his split cheeks, Joonmyun yanks the gag out of his mouth.

“Remember what I said about biting. I have acid stored in a cupboard somewhere in this house. And I’m not afraid to neuter my adorable pup.”

Yixing doesn’t put any form of torture past Joonmyun at this point and slackens his jaw, hoping that Joonmyun isn’t about to do what he thinks he is.

But he does.

With a moan that almost makes bile rise up in Yixing’s throat, Joonmyun slides his cock into Yixing’s mouth. Sighing Joonmyun grips Yixing’s scalp and thrusts _hard_. Yixing gags but Joonmyun pays him no heed and continues to shove his hips forward into the warmth, saliva and blood-slicked mouth.

His arms tremble and he tightens his grip in Yixing’s too-long hair, groaning at the delicious wetness.

When he finally comes in Yixing’s mouth, he’s glad that Yixing didn’t actually bite his cock off.

Joonmyun groans as he pulls his softening cock out of Yixing’s mouth, slippery with saliva, cum and blood. He collapses on the bed beside Yixing and closes his eyes for a moment.

He rubs his member as he stares at Yixing who is still writhing in pain, trying to loosen his bonds.

Before Joonmyun knows it, he’s hard and fucking Yixing into the mattress again, hips quick and harsh. He doesn’t care how the rubbing of cotton over Yixing’s wounds is hurting, all he knows is that the screaming sounds so beautiful, and Yixing _is so fucking beautiful._

He picks up the larger kitchen knife off the tray, a manic glint in his eye. Yixing’s eyes are so wide, that Joonmyun wonders if he could pop them out of their sockets. He smiles as the knife plunges into Yixing’s side, penetrating the soft tissue. Joonmyun continues to move his hips, forcing his hipbones to the back of Yixing’s thighs, unrelentingly harsh. He whispers and shushes Yixing as he thrashes wildly beneath him, wishing for him to stop.

But he doesn’t.

He thrusts harder still and bites Yixing’s shoulder with near manic glee. He smiles as the blood Yixing coughs up soaks the gag, staining the fabric bright red. Warm blood seeps from the stab wound and Suho wants to dig his fingers in the wound.

He slices him further open, and drops the knife off to the side. He presses two fingers inside and nearly moans from the squelching warmth inside of Yixing.

“Oh Yixing…” he whispers as he tugs the gag down.

Yixing coughs and splatters blood in Joonmyun’s face. Yixing’s crying loudly again, screaming out for Joonmyun to stop.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he takes the cigarette that’s dangling from his lips and presses the end into Yixing’s hip bone once more. He sears the skin and smiles as Yixing forces his eyes shut to block everything out.

“So beautiful, Yixing,” he says, smiling down at Yixing as he resumes thrusting.

He lets his head roll back as he groans before pulling out again. He shoves his fingers into Yixing’s ass and moves to the stab wound. He licks his lips and leans down, holding Yixing still by his neck.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he whispers in his ear, licking the shell.

He forces the hole wider, fucking into the soft flesh inside of Yixing’s torso, not caring about the ear-splitting screams echoing throughout the room. Groaning lowly, he rolls his hips forward. He continues to curl his fingers in Yixing, rubbing against his sweet spot.

But with him screaming _bloody murder_ , Joonmyun doesn’t know if it even registers in Yixing’s mind. All he knows is that the sensation of blood slicking up his cock and the warmth inside of Yixing feels _so damn good_ and _nothing can possibly compare_.

He moans loudly and lets his gaze fall to Yixing’s face. It’s contorted in pain and his eyes are only barely open. His screams are strangely melodious to Joonmyun and all he wants is to hear Yixing beg for something, be it life or death.

Taking his knife again, he holds the flat of the blade to Yixing’s neck and grins at him.

“Ah… Yixing, you are so beautiful. It’s sad,” he murmurs between moans.

He continues to piston his hips forward, until the coil in his stomach snaps, and his body jerks. Yixing’s screams are cut short.

The spasms of Joonmyun limbs have him slice Yixing’s throat open, cutting through his jugular vein and ending him.

And them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun frowns slightly when Yixing’s body falls limply into the river. His mangled body catches on the rocks and Joonmyun sighs as he waits for the current to drag him along.

“You were my favorite, you know? Far better than that tall one… Kevin? No. Kris was it? That really young one, he was fifteen or so… Sehun or something like that, he couldn’t hold a candle to you. He was too young and too naïve. He was too innocent and cried for his _mother_ , of all people, when I fucked him with a knife.”

“And I didn’t think anyone could be more beautiful than Lu Han,” he says to no one in particular as he watches Yixing’s body being pushed against the rocks.

“Oh, Lu Han,” Joonmyun sighs.

“Lu Han was your best friend, wasn’t he? Sure, he had a beautiful body and a soft voice, and a perfect little mouth… But you really were better than him. You had something special, something more. And I think I might have loved you, Yixing.”

He begins to make his way back to his car. He glances one last time over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, my Zhang Yixing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s just a hobby.

Nothing more than just that.

That’s what Kim Joonmyun tell himself whenever he finds himself driving past the rent boys in the red-light district in his Hyundai Santa Fe, which earns him interested glances from the many young men lurking about the streets.

He swallows the lump in his throat when he pulls up beside a young man, dressed in torn skinny jeans and a ragged coat, his icy breath visible under the yellow streetlight. His dark hair is cut choppily and mussed up. His skin is appears to be a warm caramel, a sharp contrast to the ghostly glow of Joonmyun’s. His nose is somewhat flat and his lips are incredibly plush.

As if cued, the young man leans down to the passenger side window, tapping with a small seductive smile. Thick lips are pulled into a cocky smile and Joonmyun smiles back as he presses a button to roll the window down.

“You lookin’ for a good time?” asks the stranger, pink tongue running over his rose petal lips.

“Yes… yes, I am,” answers Joonmyun.

He doesn’t stutter, he’s too practiced to do so anyway. He’s done this too many times before.

“Blowjobs are ninety thousand won, handjobs are twenty thousand and fuckin’ is sixty thousand,” lists the young man, face serious.

“Hop in then…?”

“Kai. Just Kai.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, I wrote this in april of 2013. Meaning I had only just turned 17 when I wrote this. Coincidentally earlier that month, the first episodes of NBC's Hannibal aired.
> 
> I'm no longer an EXO fan, but I'm in the process of migrating all my previous works to my main AO3 account.


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